Lafleur Quotes

But I'd much rather face a dozen assassins like LaFleur any night than deal with something as tricky, convoluted, and fragile as my feelings.

No matter how much we love someone, or think we know them, we can never know what it is like to be inside them.

Sometimes I wonder if life is all about one moment. Everything before and everything after is about that one moment, and we are all stuck there.

A good friend is one of the hardest things to keep in this life. Don't forget that sometimes you have to work at it.

But in life people come and go. We don't always have control over it. But we can control how we respond. We can keep going, keep living the best we can. We can love the people we have instead of shutting them out. We can do our best to get to know them in the time we have.

Where the hell are you!?" Finn screamed in my ear. "We've been looking everywhere for you!" I winced at his voice blaring out at me. "I'm fine. I'm back at the train yard. LaFleur jumped me behind the Pork Pit and decided to take me for a little drive tonight." "Well, I hope that you had the good sense to kill her for interrupting your evening," Finn sniffed. "And for making us worry.

But I remind myself that I know you. I know your heart, and that will always stay the same, so I will always know you...

But really, anybody could die any day, whether you were ready or not. It could be your pet fish or your sister or you. Nothing is the same forever. Maybe all the people on Earth are God's little pet fish. God lives such a long time that people's lives probably seem really short to him. He watches them swim for a little while, and then they stop swimming.

Trying to figure out why things change is probably even harder than trying to figure out how they started.

We have plenty of room for people...in our lives, I mean. Especially the ones who make us be the people we want to be.

- I have no argument with faith, understand, so long as it helps one to cope with the slings and arrows of life while keeping its hands outside of my pockets - Virgil LaFleur

Well, sometimes things don't change on their own. Sometimes we have to change them.

Madame LaFleur would say that you're more of a classical ballet dancer instead of a jazz dancer. But sometimes all you have to do is change costumes to become something different.

It takes an athlete to dance, but an artist to be a dancer

Afrofuturism is an intersection of imagination, technology, the future, and liberation. “I generally define Afrofuturism as a way of imagining possible futures through a black cultural lens,” says Ingrid LaFleur, an art curator and Afrofuturist.

Dung cookies.

Jim and Myron LaFleur, with the entire beer cooler and wine rack at their disposal, were abysmally shitfaced.

Soon Aunt Bessie slipped into my room and shut the door. “Hugh told me he wants to talk to you and I thought, Men can be so obtuse sometimes, so I decided to come in myself to see if you wanted a woman to talk to.

She gazed around at all of us. “Prepare to meet your God!” “Prepare to meet shit,” Myron LaFleur said in a drunken snarl from the beer cooler. “Old woman, I believe your tongue must be hung in the middle so it can run on both ends.

Whoever thought of putting hot, sweaty, disgusting gym class first period should die a long, painful death.

You see a problem where I see none.

of the true, humanistic spirit of the ancient Latin and Greek literatures and the fresh attention to literary

this development produced what is called Middle English, known especially from Chaucer,

Tu dis cherches le bien Trouve le bien Cherche la fin de ton hiver Et trouve-moi sur ton chemin

as the descendants of the Normans finally amalgamated with the English natives, the Anglo-Saxon language reasserted itself; but in its poverty it had to borrow hundreds of French words (literary, intellectual, and cultural) before it could become the language of literature.

Contenson, you must know, was a whole poem—a Paris poem. Merely to see him would have been enough to tell you that Beaumarchais’ Figaro, Moliere’s Mascarille, Marivaux’s Frontin, and Dancourt’s Lafleur—those great representatives of audacious swindling, of cunning driven to bay, of stratagem rising again from the ends of its broken wires—were all quite second-rate by comparison with this giant of cleverness and meanness. When in Paris you find a real type, he is no longer a man, he is a spectacle; no longer a factor in life, but a whole life, many lives.

I was lucky to receive it. Most rogue interns never get a second chance. And here it’s worth mentioning that I benefited from what was known in 2009 as being fortunate, and is now more commonly called privilege. It’s not like I flashed an Ivy League gang sign and was handed a career. If I had stood on a street corner yelling, “I’m white and male, and the world owes me something!” it’s unlikely doors would have opened. What I did receive, however, was a string of conveniences, do-overs, and encouragements. My parents could help me pay rent for a few months out of school. I went to a university lousy with successful D.C. alumni. No less significantly, I avoided the barriers that would have loomed had I belonged to a different gender or race. Put another way, I had access to a network whether I was bullshit or not. A friend’s older brother worked as a speechwriter for John Kerry. When my Crisis Hut term expired, he helped me find an internship at West Wing Writers, a firm founded by former speechwriters for Bill Clinton and Al Gore. In the summer of 2009, my new bosses upgraded me to full-time employee. Without meaning to, I had stumbled upon the chance to learn a skill. The firm’s partners were four of the best writers in Washington, and each taught me something different. Vinca LaFleur helped me understand the benefits of subtle but well-timed alliteration. Paul Orzulak showed me how to coax speakers into revealing the main idea they hope to express. From Jeff Shesol, I learned that while speechwriting is as much art as craft, and no two sets of remarks are alike, there’s a reason most speechwriters punctuate long, flowy sentences with short, punchy ones. It works.

A box sat on top of Jade’s pillows, wrapped in green paper with a white bow. He frowned slightly. Who would’ve left a gift on Jade’s bed? “You have a present.” “What?” Jade turned her head when he gestured toward the box. Confusion filled her eyes. She sat up and reached for the box. “I don’t understand.” Zach sat by her again and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Maybe there’s a card.” After searching beneath the large white bow, Jade pulled out a small envelope. Zach looked over her shoulder as she withdrew the card and read it aloud. “‘To Mom and Zach. Have fun tonight. Bre.’” Zach chuckled, both at Breanna’s card and at Jade’s blush. “Your daughter has quite a sense of humor.” “My daughter deserves to be spanked.” She lifted the box onto her lap. “I’m afraid to open it.” “Would you like me to? It’s addressed to both of us.” “I’m even more afraid for you to open it.” “Go ahead. It can’t be that bad.” “You don’t know my daughter.” Untying the bow, Jade raised the lid and pulled apart the bright green tissue paper. Several sex toys lay in the box. She gasped. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe she did this!” She started to push the tissue paper back over the contents, but Zach held her hand to stop her. “Wait. Let’s see what she bought.” “I am going to kill her, after I beat her.” Chuckling, Zach dug through the box, lifting the different items as he came to them. “Cock ring. Chocolate body paint. Stay-hard gel.” He looked into Jade’s eyes. “I don’t think I’ll need that tonight.” Her cheeks turned a deep pink. He dropped a kiss on her lips before beginning to explore again. “Anal beads. Ben-Wa balls. Fur-lined handcuffs. Nipple clamps. Lemon-flavored nipple cream.” His gaze dipped to her breasts. “Interesting.” She huffed out a breath. “Can we close the box now?” “Not yet. I like it when you blush.” Zach grinned when Jade scowled at him. “This is completely spoiling the mood.” “I won’t have any problem getting hard again.” “Zach!” Ignoring her outraged tone, he continued to sift through the items. “Lifelike dildo.” He held it up to eye level. “Close, but not quite as big as I am.” Jade covered her eyes with one hand. “I don’t believe this,” she muttered. “Butt plug. Wait, I’m wrong. It’s a vibrating butt plug. Very interesting. I hope you have batteries. Never mind. Breanna included several packages.” “Okay, that’s enough.” Jade tried to jerk the box out of his reach, but Zach held on to the side. “There’re only a couple more items. We might as well see what they are.” “I don’t care what they are.” “You might care about one of them.” Zach held up a large box of condoms. “Oh.” He turned the box in his hand. “I’m flattered, but I don’t think I’ll be able to use one hundred of these tonight.” “One hundred?” “All different types, sizes, and colors.” Jade laughed. “Oh, Bre.” She pushed her hair behind one ear. “What’s the last thing?” “Cherry-flavored lubricant. It looks like she thought of everything.” “You must think my daughter is crazy.” “I think your daughter loves you very much and wants you to be happy.” “That’s true. But we won’t use all this…stuff.” “Who says we won’t?

Jeremiah's words, in English, were as cold as drops from a melting block of ice. "Even if we told them, they would side with Father Lafleur." Selecting one of the free Native languages that she knew— English would remain, for life, beyond her reach and that of her husband's— Mariesis turned to Jeremiah. "What are you saying, my sons?" If moments can be counted as minutes can, or hours or days or years, one thousand of them trickled by before Jeremiah was absolutely sure Gabriel's silence would remain until the day they died. And then he said, his voice flat, "Maw keegway." Nothing.

sometimes things don’t change on their own. Sometimes we have to change them.

When a stuffed bear asks you for help, you can … ignore him, check your sanity, or give in.

But in life people come and go. We don’t always have control over it. But we can control how we respond. We can keep going, keep living the best we can. We can love the people we have instead of shutting them out. We can do our best to get to know them in the time we have.

The Romans borrowed theirs from their Etruscan neighbors (and at the time, in the sixth century B.C., their overlords), who had in turn adapted their script from Greeks living in south Italy.

The usual -am ending signals the dir. obj., as does the word order, which is standard for Latin: SOV, subj.-obj.-verb (vs. English, which is an SVO language); final -m was often muted in speech, and sometimes therefore dropped in writing.

PITVITA ME TENET Ptuta m tenet.

Rdx enim omnium malrum est cupidits. (I Timothy 6.10: rdx, rdcis, f., root; source, origin; “radical,” “radish.”)

Caec sunt ducs caecrum. (Matthew 15.14:

Nn omns qu habent citharam sunt citharoed.

Fortna caeca est.

Numquam snantur dfrmis vulnera fmae. (Cato Dist. Appendix 5:

Salvēte, amīcae et amīcī! Quid hodiē agitis? Well, if you are in the Coast Guard, you are semper parātus, always prepared, or if you’re a U.S. Marine, it’s semper fidēlis, always faithful (from the same Latin root as “Fido,” your trusty hound). These are just two (suggested by this chapter’s Vocābula) of countless Latin mottoes representing a wide range of modern institutions and organizations. Valēte et habēte fortūnam bonam!

SERVA FIDEM

bonam vtam,

Quid est enim fids nisi crdere quod nn vids? (Augustine Evang. Iohan.

Mult sunt enim voct, pauc autem lct. (Matthew 20.16:

Arbor bona frcts bons facit; mala autem arbor frcts mals facit. (Matthew 7.17:

Sed quis custdiet ipss custds? (Juvenal Sat. 6.347–48:

Levmur superstitine, lbermur mortis met. (Cicero Fin. 1.63:

Ingrta sunt beneficia quibus comes est metus. (Publilius Sent.: ingrtus, -a, -um, ungrateful, thankless; unwelcome, displeasing; “ingrate,” “ingratitude.”—comes, comitis, m./ f., companion; “concomitant,” “count,” i.e., a nobleman’s title.)

Manus manum lavat.

gs, inquit, bonae ex mals mribus procreantur. (Macrobius

Nm nisi viti su miser est. (Seneca Ep. 8.70.15:

CAVE CANEM Cav canem!

Nec vta nec fortna hominibus perpes est. (Publilius

Cognsctis vrittem et vrits lberbit vs. (John 8.32:

Nquitia ipsa poena su est. (Publilius

Umbram suam metuit.

Suum cuique pulchrum est.

Su cuique mrs fingunt fortnam. (Cornelius Nepos

Avrus ipse miseriae causa est suae. (Publilius Sent.:

Psittacus vbs alirum nmina discam: Hoc didic per m dcere, “Caesar, hav!

Pecnia na regimen est rrum omnium. (Publilius Sent.:

cta est fbula: plaudite! (Suetonius Aug. 99.1: plaud, plaudere, plaus, plausum, to strike with a flat surface, clap; applaud; “plaudit,” “explode.” Augustus’ last words, according to his biographer.)

Nl homin certum est. (Ovid

In prncipi erat Verbum et Verbum erat apud Deum et Deus erat Verbum. Hoc erat in prncipi apud Deum: omnia per ipsum facta sunt et sine ips factum est nihil quod factum est. In ips vta erat et vta erat lx hominum, et lx in tenebrs lcet et tenebrae eam nn comprehendrunt.

Cr nn bsio t, Philaen? Calva es. Cr nn bsio t, Philaen? Rfa es. Cr nn bsio t, Philaen? Lusca es. Martial Epig. 2.33: The Epigrams are usually referenced, as here, by book and poem number; this poem, targeted at poor Philaenis, had an obscene denouement in its fourth and final verse, which I have dutifully omitted! The striking repetition, the technical term for which is ANAPHORA, was a favorite poetic and rhetorical device, typically used to achieve some sort of emphasis. Meter: hendecasyllabic, an “11-syllable” verse rhythm often employed by Catullus and Martial.

Two Talented Gladiators RVSTICVS MALIVS XII C XI M • TERNTIVS III C III Rsticus Malius XII, c(ornae) XI; M(rcus) Terntius III, c(ornae) III.

Nllum magnum ingenium sine mixtr dmentiae fuit. (Seneca

Vdcaelum novum et terram novam. (Revelations 21.1.)

Et sambulver in medi umbrae mortis, nn timb mala, quoniam t mcum es. (Psalms 22.4:

Vrits numquam perit.

Modestus, , m., Modestus, Roman cognomen from an adj. meaning “temperate” or “unassuming” another notice for the man’s election reads MODESTVM AED • O • V • F, where the last three letters, as we have seen before, are the standard abbreviation for r vs facitis, I ask you to make (elect), and in another inscription we have the candidate’s full name, Marcus Samellius Modestus.

Aud alteram partem. (Augustine Man. 14.22: pars, partis, f., part, share; party, side, position [in a dispute]; “partisan.”)

Vestis virum facit.

Inveniet viam aut faciet.

Vvere est cgitre. (Cicero Tusc. 5.111.)

15. Lbers rud. (lber as adj. means free, but in the m. pl. it can also = children.—rudi, rudre, rudv, rudtum, to instruct, train, educate; a wonderful etymology, meaning lit. to get someone ex/ out of being rudis/ rough, crude, unpolished—so, gentle reader, learn Latin, cease to be “rude,” become “erudite,” and rejoice in your “erudition”!)

Date et dabitur vbs. (Luke 6.38.)

c est vulgus: ex vritte pauca, ex opnine multa aestimat. (Cicero Rosc.

na dis aperit, cnficit na dis. (Ausonius Ros. Nasc.

Nunc autem manet fids, sps, crits—tria haec; maior autem hs est crits. (1 Corinthians 13.13:

Mribus antqus rs stat Rmna virsque. (Ennius Ann. 467.)

Hic tibi nocturns praestbit creus igns: Subducta est puer namque lucerna tu.

ds mnibus: for this phrase, commonly abbreviated D. M., see “Epitaph of a Young Boy,” in Capvt VII.—fcit: sc. id, i.e., the monument.

Bonus vir nm est nisi qu bonus est omnibus. (Publilius Sent.)

Betus hom qu invenit sapientiam. (Proverbs 3.13: betus hom, sc. est.)

In edem es nv. (Cicero Fam.

Facis tua computat anns. (Juvenal

Iris praecepta sunt haec: honest vvere, alterum nn laedere, suum cuique tribuere. (Justinian Inst. 1.1:

Modus omnibus rbus. (Plautus Poen. 238: sc. est.)

That is the best start, Mathilde, to learn to love. It will help you see that every person matters, that everyone is someone’s loved one. … The truth is, you already do. You think so carefully about how things affect people. That’s why our work here is so hard for you. And it’s why we need you. We all have to make difficult choices. If we make the right ones, hopefully they will allow others to make more right ones, and, one day, things will get better.

boiled red potato.

Anyway, where Cabestany really made his money was in catechisms and a series of cheap sentimental novels starring a provincial heroine called Violeta LaFleur. Those sold like candy in kiosks. My guess, or anybody’s, is that he published Carax’s novels because it tickled his fancy, or just to contradict Darwin.

moon and the stars and the sun combined

Miss Markusen came around to my side of the desk. She knelt and gently wiped away the tear, and the ones that came splashing after it, with a clean, soft, baby-blue handkerchief. “That is the best start, Mathilde, to learn to love. It will help you see that every person matters, that everyone is someone’s loved one.” Gunnar had said that to me. He was better at this than I was. “The truth is, you already do. You think so carefully about how things affect people. That’s why our work here is so hard for you. And it’s why we need you. “We all have to make difficult choices. If we make the right ones, hopefully they will allow others to make more right ones, and, one day, things will get better.” When I finally looked back up at the Examiner, she said, “We are trying to make the world a safe place. You have to trust us, Mathilde. We trust you.” MEGS AND I SAT together at lunch, though we were both very quiet. It took me the whole meal to get out the sentence I needed to say. “Come with me.” “Okay.” On the way out of the lunchroom, I caught Gunnar’s elbow. “Come with us?” “Where?” “You’ll see.” Making sure no one followed us, I led them up the stairs and along the hallway to my door to

startling—the Romans themselves never read silently, but always aloud; they regarded language as speaking and listening, and viewed writing as merely a convenient means of recording communications spoken and heard.

Hom semper aliud, fortna aliud cgitat.

sce animum tuum.

Nllum homin est perpetuum bonum.

Prophta in su patri honrem nn habet.